


Duet

by DarlingRutherford



Series: The Witcher works [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:11:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22328944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlingRutherford/pseuds/DarlingRutherford
Summary: Jaskier stops by to visit Theia while Geralt is away, and receives some very clear instructions from the witcher: "Keep her warm."Random little smut drabble taking place in my little Witcher AU where Theia and Geralt are together.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s), Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Witcher works [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593490
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	Duet

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in the middle of a tired stupor, and couldn't help but finish it. Not sure if this will end up being canon with my little Witcher AU story when it comes to it, but who doesn't enjoy a little friends with benefits action? :) 
> 
> Sorry if Jaskier's voice doesn't sound quite right in this, I did my best!

They had been up for hours, well past the point either of them usually drifted off. Jaskier always stopped to see Theia whenever he was traveling nearby, not only for the free cot and warm fire she always offered, but for the company of someone who had become a dear friend. He knew the sorceress was content living this far out from the town, in the woods where she wouldn’t be bothered unless someone needed something - a potion, a spell - but Jaskier did notice how her face lit up when he stopped by, and he appreciated her company just as well. That evening they had stayed up late, lying on her bed as he picked out tunes on his lute. Geralt was away, off two towns over tracking down monsters as was his profession, and, although Jaskier enjoyed the witcher’s gruffness, it was nice to have Theia to himself, to help critique his newest work.

“Ah, it seems I’m finally boring you,” Jaskier teased as Theia tried to stifle a yawn. The sorceress laughed, shaking her head as she flicked his shoulder.

“Never,” she said with a smile. “Just tired. I had a long string of clients before you arrived. Everyone’s worried about catching ill with all this snow coming down.”

“Well aren’t _they_ lucky, to have such a warmhearted mage to chase away the ice.” Jaskier picked a few more notes on his lute, then placed his hand across the strings to still the tune. “I should head to my cot. Don’t want to be responsible for you mucking up any magic in the morning, mixing your _turn into frog brew_ for your _cure sniffles elixir_.”

“Why don't you stay here with me?” Theia offered as she yawned again. Jaskier laughed as she sat up and began stretching.

“Yeah, I _don't_ think Geralt would be thrilled about that.”

“It's freezing, Jaskier. Besides, Geralt wouldn't care, not if it was you. He trusts you.”

“Does he? Well, still, as… As _tempting_ as that may be…” Jaskier trailed off, color burning up the back of his neck as Theia unlaced her bodice. He jerked his head to the side, stealing glances from his peripherals as she undressed and slipped on a long, white cotton chemise. He turned back to look as he felt the bed sag slightly beneath her weight, and he shifted as she pulled at the heavy blankets beneath him.

“I haven't been cuddled in a_ month_, Jaskier,” she teased, her voice slightly pouting through her smile. She had folded back the blankets enough to slip under them, remaining upright as she pulled them over her her lap but left the other side of the bed uncovered to visualize the invitation.

“Far be it from me to deny a beautiful woman, but… You _really_ don't think he'll mind? Only, I've heard tale of what Geralt did to that man who tried to advance on you and I'd_ rather_ not end up at the bottom of a ravine myself.”

“I think this is a very different circumstance.” She smiled as she patted the mattress beside her. “You can ask him yourself, if you'd like.”

“Is he here?” Jaskier's eyes had widened, and he began looking around the room as if expecting Geralt to pop out at any moment. Theia laughed and shook her head before pulling the copper chain that held the onyx brooch from beneath her chemise. Jaskier watched her in interest as she held it to her mouth and spoke softly.

“Geralt? Are you awake?”

Jaskier had seen enough magic in his life to not second guess Theia's abilities, but, still, he couldn't help the disbelief that clouded his face as his brow raised when nothing but silence followed her words. Then, a moment later, came a voice from the brooch, sounding very far away but clearly Geralt.

_“I'm surprised you're awake this late.”_

Theia's features lit up at the sound of his voice, her face visibly softening while a smile graced her lips. Jaskier couldn’t help but smile; he knew how happy Geralt made her, and he was glad to see they had come up with some way of contact to soothe her when he was gone for so long.

“Jaskier stopped by on his way through. We were lying on the bed talking. He was about to go to sleep, on that cot near the hearth, but I suggested, since you're not here and it's so cold, that he stay in the bed.”

“_Hey_ Geralt, it's - it's Jaskier - can you hear me?”

“You don't have to yell.” Theia winced as he shouted into the brooch.

“Sorry.” Jaskier cleared his throat. He shifted towards Theia on the bed to get closer to the brooch as he spoke in a more normal tone. “I let her know - I won't, of course. Seeing as she's _your_ \- well, _whatever_ you two consider to be - _anyway_, I thought you wouldn't be happy about me sharing a bed with her, so -”

_“Jaskier, I really don't give a rats ass where you sleep.”_

“Really?” Jaskier paused, clearly surprised at Geralt's response. “I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable -”

One of Geralt’s signature sighs came from the brooch, as if the topic was any other normal thing that shouldn’t have to be explained.

_“Theia needs physical contact, Jaskier. Whatever you're willing to give her, if she asks for it, I'll have no objections. Keep her warm.”_

“Well, that's very - wait, _whatever I'm willing to_ -” Jaskier had trailed off, staring at Theia with a confused look. Theia hummed a laugh.

“I think you've broken him, Geralt,” she said with a smile as Jaskier continued to stare at her with his mouth parted in confusion. “Just to be clear: he's one you approve of?”

A distant low hum echoing through the brooch was her response.

_“I trust him to treat you well. He knows what will happen if he doesn't.”_

“Well, that's a compliment I can't say I _ever_ expected to hear from you, Geralt,” Jaskier said. He paused, scratched his head, and then asked, “So, _just to be clear_, what you're saying is -”

_“Theia, will you explain things to him? It's been a long day.”_

“Sure,” Theia hummed. “Do I get to see you soon?”

_“If the weather permits it.”_

“Goodnight, Geralt.”

_“Goodnight, Thei.”_

Theia let the brooch hang loose beneath her chemise again. Jaskier sat in silence on the bed, thoroughly confused.

“Did he just say -”

“Geralt and I don't see each other at times for months,” Theia began explaining. “We both agreed we're fine with the other seeking comfort if needed in the interim, with one condition.”

“And that was…?”

“If we had someone in mind, the other has to approve of them.” Theia shrugged. “I'm glad he suggested it. I'm overly trusting… I've been at the edge of decisions which are quickly sobered by him asking if I trust them to not hurt me.”

“So… Geralt trusts_ me_, to…”

“To treat me well, if you wanted to do more than sleep. But there's no pressure, Jaskier. I honestly wasn't expecting him to bring_ that_ up, I just didn't want you worried about him coming after you for smelling you on the sheets when he comes back.”

“Well, that is - wait, he can_ smell me on the sheets?_”

Theia laughed as she slid down beneath the covers. The candlelight was burning low on her side table, casting dark oranges and brilliant shadows across her features that somehow made her eyes glow more playfully than usual.

“Just get in bed and cuddle me, Jaskier. Nothing else has to happen, but it's _freezing_ and I haven't been held in a month. You let me lean against you when we're sitting all the time. Is it _that_ different?”

Jaskier paused, mulling over his options. He could say no. It seemed the safer option, to politely bid her goodnight and retire to the more than comfortable cot she had set up for him near the hearth in the other room. But it wouldn't be more comfortable than her bed, or feeling the warmth of another's arms around him in this frigid cold that had swept up around the town the last day. Jaskier could remember the last time he had held someone; it had been ages ago, someone whose face was beginning to fade from his memory. Many were the ladies at court whose chambers he had sweet talked his way into, but there was always the rush afterwards, of throwing back on clothes while they whispered loudly about husbands or fathers with enough money and power to get him locked away for a good while - things he could have been told about _before_ he had stuck his fingers in that honeypot. Theia's offer _was_ tempting.

Jaskier set his lute off to the side, against the wall where it would be safe and undisturbed if he suddenly changed his mind at any point in the night. His doublet was already unlaced from earlier, and it slid easily enough from his shoulders. He tossed it to the side near his lute, suddenly looking down at his trousers and wondering what he should do about them. Geralt and Theia _had_ offered - but, she was sitting upright again now, brushing through her hair with her fingers as if readying for bed. It was late, after all, closer now to dawn than it was to sunset. The wind rattled against the glass panes of her window, icy flurries bouncing off before being swept back into the night. He slid his legs under the covers, leaving on his trousers and chemise.

Jaskier was a bit stiff as he sidled onto his back. He felt unsure of himself, of what he should do, staring up at the wooden ceiling of the cottage as Theia finished with her hair. He turned his chin towards her as he felt her slide down, the bed shifting as she scooted towards him and pressed her cheek to his breast.

“Your heart's beating awfully fast,” she teased. Jaskier chuckled nervously while slipping his arm around her. It felt nice, her body against his. Her skin was soft on her naked arm, contrasting to the permanent calluses at the tips of his fingers from years of plucking lute strings. The heat from her body was already melding with his, warming the space between the mattress and the blankets. She had been right: this would be much better on a cold night like tonight than sleeping alone near the fire.

“Your heart would be beating quick as well if you had in your arms the woman your best friend is most _familiarly_ acquainted with,” he said. Theia's light laughter gave cause for him to relax his body, becoming less frigid. He had seen Geralt relax under the smallest of touches from her, and he was beginning to understand why.

“Perhaps you'd be less nervous if you were more comfortable,” Theia suggested. Jaskier practically jumped as he felt her fingers at the buttons of his trousers. His arm inadvertently tightened around her as he felt a button pop free of its hole. Theia paused as she felt him flexing against her, and she turned her chin upwards to find him staring wide eyed at the ceiling. She couldn't help but read his mind - it was habit after so many years of it being the norm in Aretuza. Fear wasn't _quite_ the right word for what he was feeling - nervousness, wondering if this could be the first time Geralt had made a joke and was waiting to see if Jaskier would take the bait. Theia had meant what she said: they only had to sleep, there was no pressure for more even though she would be glad to receive his attention. She would be lying, though, if she said she had never been curious just how skilled he was, if he could play her as beautifully as he played that lute of his.

“Jaskier.” His name fluttering from her lips pulled his gaze towards her. He found her blue eyes looking up at him, the silver specks in them almost fading away in the dim light of the room. A kind smile grew on her face, and again she felt him relax. “He won't mind. And I'd be disappointed if you didn't try some of the things running through your mind…”

“You know, sometimes it slips my mind you're a mage,” he mumbled with a light laugh. He couldn't help the warm _hum_ that echoed in his chest, the way his eyes fluttered shut for a moment as her fingers slid along his neck and to his jaw. Suddenly the room felt very warm to him, as if the ice outside had faded away and spring had come again. But then her warm touch, skating across his cheek that seemed both cool and hot and the same time, brought back the chill of the room, and reminded him of Geralt's words: _‘Keep her warm.’_

It would be unkind of him not to, really.

Jaskier dipped his chin down and turned until his lips ever so gently brushed with hers. Lightning flashed in his chest at the contact, his fingertips sparking against her chemise as he splayed his hand against her back. Heavily lidded eyes gazed down at her as he pulled back, searching for a sign before he found himself content with the way she gazed longingly at his lips. They met halfway this time, lips touching lightly still as Jaskier tested the waters. She tasted like honey, and the _sun._ Warm, and soft, and inviting, her lips pressed against his while her hand slid into his short hair to gently grip.

Jaskier shifted, and they gently rolled until Theia was on her back. One hand remained at the small of her back while the other cupped her jaw and thumbed at her lower lip. It was a move he had used before, one that had made many a lady swoon under such a tender touch. Theia didn't _swoon_, but the smile that stretched her lips he found to be rewarding all the same.

“Is this how you _woo_ all those ladies at court?” Theia asked teasingly while Jaskier placed a soft kiss at the curve of her jaw.

“Why? Is it working?” He joked. He smiled as Theia hummed softly. “There's usually a bit more poetry involved.” His lips slid a little lower to kiss her chin. “Those poor women have little romance at home.”

“Ah, I see. You _fill_ a well needed position in their hearts… As well as their _beds_.”

“Precisely.” Jaskier paused to inhale deeply as Theia's leg bent softly towards him and her thigh rubbed against him. His cock was already twitching awake from the kisses alone, their intimate position in her bed giving cause for his mind to roam freely. Jaskier would be lying if he claimed he had never thought of this - of _her_. But she was Geralt's. He never imagined the two of them would allow him a _taste_ such as this.

“Am I so easy a catch, that I require none of your prowess?” She teased with a smirk as she felt his hip settle against hers, allowing himself the pressure of her thigh after her bold move.

“_An easy catch?_ By no means, sweet lady,” Jaskier purred, falling into his usual suave demeanor that accompanied such memories. He kissed her as he gently rutted against her thigh, before his fingers met her temple to brush hair delicately out of the way. “A woman of your beauty is rarely defined by the mere words even the very best of bards could conjure. As for my _prowess_… I fear it will take_ all_ of it this night to properly convey what you envoke to any man lucky enough to gaze upon you.”

Even in the dim light Jaskier could see the pink that flushed Theia's cheeks. Gods, he was _good_. Theia knew Jaskier was in no harm's way of hurt feelings when he would see her with Geralt next, but if she hadn't the ability to read minds she could have almost believed that he _ached _for her. Judging from the way he rutted his hard cock against her thigh, a part of him _did_ ache indeed.

Theia's hands slid to the back of his head and pulled him towards her. She had expected the kiss to be heavy, so used to hers and Geralt's bruising kisses when the moment struck just right, but Jaskier took his time, savoring the taste of her as his hand slid to pull at the string that laced the top of her long chemise. He tugged at it slowly, like one unwrapping a delicate gift. His lips brushed against hers again and again, the pressure building gently with each kiss until Theia found herself breathless and wanting more. Jaskier was a performer through and through, and he was playing her like a fiddle. She dipped her hands down to begin tugging the hem of his chemise from his trousers when he suddenly slid lower, just enough to place heavy, slow, wet kisses on her neck.

Theia sighed from the touch. She found herself craving every kiss, anything she could get from him. It had been a long month, and Geralt had been right: she _needed_ physical contact. It lifted her spirits, made her feel _whole_. Often she went without, waiting for Geralt's return as she could find no one in this town or passing through whom she trusted enough, but Jaskier fit the bill in more ways than one.

Jaskier's hand slid from her back and began gathering her long chemise at her hip, bunching it until he was able to slide his hand along the skin of her thigh. Theia's body arched towards him as he rutted against her core. Suddenly his trousers were the only thing between them, and even that wasn't enough to stop her from feeling the curve of him. She grasped the back of his chemise, tugging sharply, and finally he allowed her to pull it over his head. Theia was unable to hold in the whimper that escaped her as she felt the pressure of his cock leave her, however, any disappointment quickly faded as she felt his lips just above her belly. He had pulled up her chemise and was now trailing warm kisses upwards as he pulled it further, extracting warm hums and sighs from her as he wandered towards her breast.

The hum that left Jaskier vibrated across Theia's chest as he closed his mouth around her nipple. Her body arched beneath him, pressing her breast further against his lips as he licked and nipped gently at it. Her hands dove into his short locks, gripping handfuls as she moaned under his touch. As Jaskier released her perked nipple with a satisfying _pop_, he paused, staring at her chest for a short moment before meeting her eyes.

“I'm sorry, can I just…?” He motioned to the brooch, waiting for Theia to nod with a laugh before unclasping it and setting it on the table next to her bed. He was nearly certain that Geralt wouldn't just _pop in_ after the conversation they had, but, if it _were_ to happen, better for his voice to be beside them rather than _between_ them. Jaskier showed his approval with a deep kiss to her lips, and another heavy grind of his cock against her heat that made her whimper.

“Jaskier,” Theia breathed between kisses. “I think you need to take those off.”

“Impatient minx, aren’t we?” Jaskier teased with a grin. A deep groan vibrated in his throat as she reached between them and grabbed his bulge through his trousers. “Yeah, well, maybe, uh, you may be right.”

He backed off of her, busying his fingers with unbuttoning his trousers, but no amount of focus would be able to keep his fingers from slowing as Theia sat up and pulled her long chemise over her head. Jaskier froze in his spot, eyes wandering her body as the candlelight warmly glowed off her skin. Jaskier felt a twinge of appreciation deep in his gut as he gazed at her form, eyes trailing from her navel to her neck and every space between as she tossed the garment to the side. His mouth began to open, questions building on the tip of his tongue as he glanced at the old scar burned into her right side, the only blemish he could see on her otherwise perfect form. But, then, now wasn’t the time to bring up the pains of the past.

“Need a little help with that?” Theia’s voice brought him back to reality, pulling him from the poetry and prose he was already writing in his mind about the goddess before him, about what kind of a past would mar such a beauty. He opened his mouth to answer when he froze as she rose to her knees in front of him. She kept her eyes on his, gazes locking with one another as her fingers pulled at each button, tugging playfully to rock his hips forward as she went. Jaskier shimmied out of the trousers, not having much time to feel vulnerable in his naked state as Theia grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him. Her kisses were rougher than his, gentle bites at the bottom of his lip that made him hum as she smiled with each nip.

“You’re a very _eager_ lover, aren’t you -_ Ahaah!_” Jaskier trailed off into a deep, loud sigh as Theia’s soft hand wrapped around his cock. Her grip was more gentle than her kiss. She stroked him slowly, extracting flustered whimpers that fluttered from his mouth and bounced off her lips. Theia let out a surprised breath as Jaskier grabbed her calves and _tugged_, pulling her legs from under her. She fell to her back, smiling widely as he pressed his lips to her neck.

“Rarely have I gazed upon such a beauty, such a _striking _-”

“_Jaskier_.” Theia interrupted him, waiting for a moment for him to stop mumbling against her skin before she continued. “You can write poetry about this _after_ you’ve fucked me. Deal?”

“I, ah, I can live with those terms,” he chuckled. Theia hummed as he began kissing her neck just where it met her jaw. Her mouth hung open with a light gasp, body arching as his own eagerness got the better of him and he pressed into her. Hardly a moment had passed before his cock was buried inside her heat, hips already rocking against hers as a heavy, content _sigh_ heatedly left his throat. His hand gripped Theia’s thigh as she hooked her legs over his hips while long, ardent moans fluttered from her throat.

Jaskier was gentler than Geralt. The witcher had his moments, of course, and Theia would never be found complaining of a lack of passion and love between the two of them. But the way Jaskier moved, the way he _swayed_ with her, like two branches tangled with one another caught up in a breeze, it was as if he were writing prose with his body, with _hers_. Jaskier treated her the way he treated his ballads, as if everything needed to be _just right_ while filling an innate need of the heart. There was something poetic about it, the way he clung to her, and she to him. He fell into a rhythm almost naturally, one that made Theia aware of his total attention. Their kisses became sloppy, breaths shallow and quick as their tongues lapped at the other’s, moans bouncing off each other and melding into absolute harmony. Jaskier felt amazing, his adagio the perfect tempo for the beginning of their duet, but Theia craved more before they reached the climax of this piece they were composing together.

Hooking her leg behind his knee, Theia pushed up with her hips and rolled them over. The two of them let out a loud moan almost in unison as she began rocking against him from atop and his cock rubbed against the back of her. Jaskier’s hands gripped at her bottom, squeezing for purchase as he watched her. She was something else, straight backed, curls falling over her face as she gripped his thighs while her hips surged back and forth like the waves of the sea. He had to stop himself from closing his eyes, from completely losing himself in the pleasure that was her. He wanted to gaze upon her, to remember the way her brow crinkled, how her lips curled into a pleasurable smile as her wanton moans gave more than enough cause for his ego to soar, the way sweat glittered off her in the candlelight despite the chill of the room.

As a rule of thumb, Jaskier tried to avoid sleeping with sorceresses - they were too crafty, duplicitous, always wanting _something_ more than what their sad, often unknowing participant was willing to agree on. For Theia, his dear friend, he was happy to make an exception, and, _Gods_, he was thrilled that he had been given the chance. Jaskier was far from a witcher, but even he could sense the magic in the air as her emotions reached a pleasant peak. Theia had mentioned before that her emotions had been a catalyst for her magic earlier in life, and Jaskier believed it now full heartedly. It was like a _prickle_ in the air, like static on his skin, hardly noticeable but still most definitely there. It sparked between them, _tantalized_ him, goading their motions in the most pleasant of ways as he felt a strong pressure building from within.

His eyes shot down to watch her hips as they began rocking erratically, to observe the quiver in her abdomen as she began twitching on his hips, and then, suddenly, she began _shaking_. Her fingers dug into his thighs, mouth hanging open as the most beautiful sound left her. Her hips slowed almost to a standstill as her core squeezed and spasmed around his cock, and Jaskier _burst_. His fingers’ strength matched hers, gripping her bottom as he held her while his cock pulsed inside her and deep, throaty gasps leaving him until there was nothing in the air but the sound of them.

Slowly, Theia leaned forward, releasing her grip on his thighs to balance her palms on his chest as she breathed heavily. When she opened her eyes she found Jaskier still watching her, his eyes all glazed over, and his mouth slowly curving to match her smile. Theia slowly rolled off of Jaskier, sighing as he popped out of her and she fell onto her back at his side. She turned her head, finding him grinning widely up at the ceiling - a stark change to the nervous, wide-eyed look he had been giving her roof earlier.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about sleeping near the hearth now?” She teased.

“May I be struck by lightning if I ever question your humble offerings again.” Jaskier chuckled as he considered his words. He finally allowed himself to close his eyes, certain that his grin would still be there by morning. When Theia snuggled up to him this time, he eagerly rolled to his side and wrapped his arms around her, fully intent on keeping her warm as originally instructed. How lucky they were, for their friendship to allow them to share such an intimate moment without fear of ruining it. He was sure Geralt would roll his eyes at the ballad that was to follow, of the witch in the woods that would lull you to sleep with the smell of lavender and the taste of honey. As Theia turned her chin upwards, she blew lightly into the air, and the candle was snuffed, leaving Jaskier to drift off to the prose in his head and the sound of the ice and wind outside, and nothing but warmth between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to everyone who read, and especially those leaving comments/kudos!
> 
> If you enjoy my writing, feel free to follow me at [DarlingRutherford on Tumblr](http://darlingrutherford.tumblr.com/) where I often post things like this that don't always make it to Ao3 :)


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